Gillian Hawke, Agent 004
by Spitfire6
Summary: Agent 004 becomes involved in the underworld of global terrorism. James Bond cameo. Please R & R
1. Default Chapter

Based on 'James Bond' created by Ian Fleming 
**GILLIAN HAWKE - AGENT 004**
**A New World Order**
**Written by Spitfire**
**2.2004**

**Rated PG13**

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**Jakarta, Indonesia**

The elevator doors opened onto the 60th floor executive office suite. She instantly saw Akbar Wahid, the Indonesian tycoon with several of his less than civil associates. Tom Barker was also there.

As planned, Barker was to introduce her as a business partner who could get their merchandise in Britain without the hassles of Customs, even in this post-9-11 era of heightened security. She would ask for 10 million pounds for her part and Barker assured her Wahid would greedily accept her offer.

That was how it was suppose to happen.

"Hello Ms. Hawke, or should I just call you Agent 004 of MI6."

Gillian Hawke was momentarily surprised, glanced at Barker, who sheepishly smiled, a sign of his betrayal of country for cash. She wore a cream-colored suit with a tight short skirt. Holstered invertically on her inner thigh was a Glock 26, a subcompact with a full clip of 10-9mm rounds; a little more modern to her colleague's Walther PPK.

Gillian had replaced the previous 004 who had been murdered during a training exercise on Gibraltar. Now she wondered if this high rise would be her moment of glory before a slug stopped her cold.

She instantly reacted as the men reached into their coats, bringing down her heel on the man to her left and bringing up her fist to strike the fellow on the other side. She pulled out her Glock, avoiding the first adversarial shot that impacted one of the thugs that was beside her, who unfortunately for him was about to bring his heavier fist into her. She used him as a shield as she drilled two of the gunmen. Her shield was hit at least a half dozen times before someone grabbed a more potent weapon, a Skorpion submachine gun.

One of the last things she did was put a 9mm between the eyes of the traitor before ripping off her necklace, twisting one of the pearls and throwing it. The explosion hurtled the men back, knocking over furniture and blowing out the three large windows that gave a spectacular night view of the city of 11 million.

Her opposition was either dead or incapacitated but she did not get away completely unscathed. One of their slugs had got her in the arm. "Christ." She whispered, pulling herself up slowly. She used a tie from one of the downed men as a tourniquet then went over to Wahid, kicking away a gun the man had been reaching for. She used the butt of her Glock to knock him unconscious then rummaged through his pockets, finding the pass key.

She inserted the pass key into the digital safe that was now partially exposed because of the explosion and took out the microchip.

Though the pearls from Q Branch had eliminated the enemy's ability to fight, it also alerted others who were now coming up the elevator. She picked up the discarded Skorpion and fired when the first guards appeared, all dropping to the floor before putting their own guns in use. Gillian then stepped into the elevator. She had little choice as it was the only exit from Wahid's office.

It instantly headed for the lobby where she suspected the complex's security force was waiting. She used the small laser in her Rolex to cut open the lock of the maintenance cover, revealing the inner circuitry. She then began rerouting some wires, allowing her to control the elevator and pressed for the roof where Wahid's helipad was located.

Gillian stepped out onto the roof and activated her homing beacon, another feature on her watch.

She wasn't alone. Wahid must have planned to leave for one of his men, including the pilot, were near the helicopter. The gunman fired a shot first, narrowly getting her, as she jumped behind an air-conditioning unit, then he ordered the pilot to request back up.

004 peered over, the hum of the air-conditioning unit masking his movements from her. He noticed and fired, drilling a hole in the unit near her head. He then approached cautiously as more gunmen rushed onto the roof. 


	2. Felix

004 held her Glock steady. Her only chance was the chopper and given time, there would be more gunmen on the roof than pebbles on the beach. She considered the distanced needed to be covered, how many AC units between her and it and how many slugs she could hopefully sidestep.

Her arm, wounded in the initial firefight in Akbar's office, was giving her a great deal of grief. Gillian needed to get off this roof.

She tore at the side of her tight fitting skirt to allow for more movement and with a sigh and a boast of confidence, descended out among her predators. She fired off a couple of rounds, getting the man closest to her. She kept firing on the run as another gunman - a 9mm to the head - collapsed in a heap.

Gillian kept firing in their direction to prevent them from firing back as one of her last bullets hit the pilot as he was about to unload on her.

The chopper was already to go when she climbed in and grabbed the stick. The gunmen came out in the open, firing wildly but she managed to get it in the air. The hail of bullets impacted the fuselage, shattered glass of the cabin, missing her by a fraction of an inch.

Her means of escape suffered more than a few holes as black smoke started pouring out of the engine compartment. It became increasingly harder to pilot it and crashing into the street below was just not an option. As console lights flashed wildly, she yanked on the stick in an attempt to level her descent she managed a control spiral action, just missing a skyscraper and landed in a park nearby.

It would not be long before Akbar's men were here and as curious people looked on, she scrambled away from it hoping to lose herself among the pedestrians. Sirens could be heard in the distance, closing in.

She made sure she still had the disc. As the operation was compromised, whom could she trust in MI6's Jakarta station?

A car pulled up to the curb. "Get in!" The man yelled in English. When she hesitated, he added. "I'm on your side." He motioned behind him as police cars appeared in the traffic, almost here.

She climbed into the passenger side, putting the Glock to the man's side. "Who are you?"

"Felix Leiter, CIA. You mind putting that somewhere else." He pulled back into the street, feeling better now that her piece was not aimed at him. Glancing over at her as he drove, he noticed the blood. "Jesus, you've been hit."

"Just a flesh wound." She whispered, lying back in the seat.

He shook his head. "You got the disc? Yeah, I know, perhaps we should be cooperating more huh?" He pulled the wheel sharply to the left to pass around a decrepit bus.

She stared at him but did not answer.

"We'll have to get that arm tended to." He finally said. James was never this stubborn.

He pulled into the underground parking of the safe house and as the door closed, drowned out the sound of traffic. Felix helped her inside and sat her on the sofa. He went to get the first aid kit - a little more detailed than the average and returned, setting it down beside her. "Don't take this the wrong way but you'll have to take off your shirt."

Again, she simply stared at him before trying to pull off her jacket but it was rather painful to say the least. He tried to assist but she shrugged him off. She finally got the jacket off, unbuttoned her blouse but he had to help her gently peel the blood soaked sleeve off of her wound. With the blouse off of one side, Felix concentrated on her wound, averting his eyes from her bosom. He had to remember that0 Gillian was not only beautiful but deadly as well. He patched up her wound, the bullet having passed through and gave her a shot of antibiotics.

"This will do until we can get proper medical attention." He added. "There are some clothes in the back…"

She went into the bedroom and opened a closet. It contained an assortment of western style men and women clothing. As she slid out of the skirt, standing their in her bra and panties, she noticed the floor to ceiling mirror. Every scar was evident on her lean body. The wound today was just another example of extreme body piercing that she did not really need.

Gillian returned fully dressed, the Glock at the small of her back, concealed by a hip length leather jacket.

"You should really rest."

She tossed him the disc. "Let's find out what's on this."

He held the disc in his hand and shrugged. "Fine with me but don't complain if you start getting light headed." Felix went over to a laptop and inserted the disc. She stood behind him as the data was displayed on the screen.

"It's in some kind of code. The boys at Langley can decipher it." He turned around to look up at her. "No excuse to get some rest." He smiled, and then turned back to the keyboard. "I'll upload to them then we wait." He pressed the ENTER key, sending it encrypted, via satellite uplink.

"Maybe I'll have a rest - but wake me up as soon as you hear something." She insisted, no longer resisting her body's urge to just lie down.

He nodded and as she was walking back into the bedroom, he asked. "How is James doing?" It was an awkward moment before she responded.

"He's fine. You know James Bond?" She was not surprised, the veteran 00 operative seem to know just about everyone, especially the ladies.

"We've worked together in the past." He did not elaborate.

"Did one of those operations…" Unsure how to bring it up, she simply glanced at his leg, noticing that he limped slightly.

He followed her line of sight. "Oh, my leg." He withdrew a moment as he remembered the shark ripping at him, a painful memory but not as bad as the murder of his wife…All intertwined with one Franz Sanchez. With James' help, the bastard was dead. "Field work can be dangerous, as you know. Now get some rest." He did not want to think about Della, not now and did his best to give Gillian a reassuring smile.

She appeared to be sleeping when Felix entered the room, but the business end of her Glock was soon staring him down. Gillian sat up, placing the gun beside her. "Any news?"

"Not yet but our ride is ready if you're up to it." He was leaning against the wall.

"Yeah, let's go." She answered with a yawn.

Felix drove while it was still dark and headed toward the shoreline, away from populated areas. Waiting for them was a US Naval extraction team with an inflatable.

Less than thirty minutes later, Gillian and Felix found themselves in the bowels of the Los Angeles Class submarine _USS Fort Wayne_.

Ship's corpsman treated her wound more thoroughly with what his well-stocked Sickbay was so equipped for. After which, the CO, Lieutenant Commander Taylor, wished to see them on the Bridge.

"Feeling better Ma'am?" Taylor asked her, setting aside a clipboard.

"Yes, thank you."

"Chief Barnes is a first rate corpsman." Taylor turned to Felix. "We have an encrypted message for you."

The CIA agent read the message. "I guess we're going to Myanmar."

"With that bum leg, Felix? I'm going solo." Gillian responded, making it clear the matter was closed for discussion.


	3. Myanmar

**Myanmar (Burma)**

Felix's briefing was still ringing in Gillian's ear.

_File Number 58219-2M5_

_Archeological archives indicates that an old Buddhist temple is situated at these coordinates in Myanmar, or as us Yanks still officially call it, Burma. The country has been ruled by a military junta since the late Eighties and is far from being a respectable bunch of men. Assistance then from local authorities is not forthcoming so covert entry is essential for any manner of success. You will fly by chopper from one of our ships in the Bay of Bengal and be dropped off in the jungle. Situation on the ground is unclear however the opium trade is prevalent. Be careful…_

Gillian Hawke placed on her NVG though the dense foliage limited its effectiveness. It was still better than going in completely blind. In any event, it would be dawn soon but she wanted to be in position by then. She slung her M-16A1 over a shoulder for quick access and with machete in hand, began making her way through. A GPS was strapped to her wrist to prevent her from getting hopelessly lost.

The jungle was alive with sounds of an assortment of wildlife, from growling tigers to screaming monkeys. A python, wrapped around a tree branch at eye level, startled her and made her raise her machete as if to strike it. More from being spooked than malice.

Myanmar was the second largest opium producer, hence its existence in the Golden Triangle of the opium trade. It was quite possible for her to run into drug traffickers than loggers. There were also small insurgent groups to contend with among the ethnic Karen and Wa. As such, 004 was more concerned of the human threat in this jungle than from the animal kingdom.

Dressed in the jungle BDU, her short blonde hair covered under a dark watch hat. Webbing containing extra ammo, grenades and survival gear. Even her trusty Glock 28 was holstered in a shoulder rig. Q Branch had provided few toys this time. Stealth would be her greatest asset.

"_There is a make shift road leading to the temple, possibly carved out of the jungle by Akbar's friends. It diverges about four miles out, one heading to the Irrawaddy River, another winding its way to a little used secondary unpaved road. One to the river might be an alternative during the monsoon season when dirt roads become nothing but mud and to bring supplies in by boat." _Felix had earlier explained.

Gillian saw the road, keeping just ahead of being reclaimed by the surrounding jungle. She had reached the temple just before daybreak. Not far from the ruins were a couple of jeeps and old army trucks covered over in camouflage netting. Not the typical thing done by archeologists.

She did not see anybody as she scanned the temple and perimeter with her binoculars. No guards visible at the moment. She switched to infrared but no body heat signatures appeared. Gillian was unsure whether that was necessarily a good thing.

Gillian was going to get closer when she noticed movement near the temple's opening. It was soon followed by the arrival of a jeep and transport truck, both with Burmese army markings. She brought up her binoculars again as a Burmese officer, his shoulder boards indicating he was a colonel, stepped out of the jeep and was met by a woman who emerged from the temple.

"Colonel Maung Hsan, this is an unexpected surprise." The woman said in accented English. She was perhaps in her fifties with dark hair with just a trace of white. She still had a youthful beauty and was well toned. A woman who took care of herself, whether it be the gym or training.

The colonel smiled, flanked by a pair of his well-armed soldiers. "Ms. Smith. You know why I'm here."

'Ms. Smith' smiled though it lacked anything but warmth. "Yes Colonel. I could set my watch by it."

"Remember, you wouldn't be here at all without my protection. This jungle is full of unsavory people."

Gillian took out her mini digital camera. One of Q's toys, it would immediately uplink and the image appear on a screen at Vauxhall Cross - MI6 headquarters. She took a picture of the woman, hoping she was on some database.

'Ms. Smith' and Colonel Maung Hsan entered the temple.

"_The temple's history is clouded but scholars have being built around the 13th century. It has a rather extensive tunnel system underground and these scholars believe it was meant to hide during Mongol raids. Some of these tunnels have caved in over time." _So Felix had said.

She needed to get a better look and saw her chance when one of the guards needed to urinate. She came up behind him and with a well-placed chop to the neck, knocked him out. She needed a bloodless uniform to wear.

Gillian slipped the uniform over her BDU. It was slightly baggy but it would do. She picked up the guard's German-made 5.56mm HK G36 and with the field cap kept low on her forehead, proceeded toward the entrance.

She entered with two other guards but no one took much notice of her of which she was grateful. Staying slightly back, the other guards soon disappeared ahead. Her commlink crackled to life.

"_We've identified the woman as Rebekka Engert, former major in the East German Stasi. A little before your time. Anyway, she's been a mercenary since the collapse of communism but we have no idea who her current employer is. Don't take her for granted, she's ruthless. Her file states she gets off on torture, especially women."_

Gillian decided to take a look around. The tunnels were lit by lights at 12 feet intervals. Every so often there was a room and was often filled with supplies. She kept moving and found a munitions dump loaded with enough for a small army. Much of it was Russian, acquired through bribery or theft. A few crates packed a bigger punch like the SA-7 rocket launcher.

She could hear people talking ahead so keeping to what shadows there were, advanced slowly forward. What she came to was a vast antechamber. Gillian was unsure whether it was carved out by the monks of old or more recently. Rebekka was there with Maung Hsan. 004 used a piece of equipment as cover and watched what was going on. Then he appeared.

The man's face was etched in her memory in the event she would ever see it by chance anywhere in the world. Mustafa Al-Sabai was one of the top five in Al Qaeda. Involved in numerous terrorist attacks, including 9-11, he disappeared during the Afghan War. With his beard, he looked like a younger Castro, right down to the combat fatigues. It took a great deal of will power not to act on impulse and put a slug into him. At the moment, whatever was going on was more important.


	4. Leaving the Jungle

"I'm changing our agreement. I'm taking much risk." Muang Hsan stated.

Mustafa stared at him for a moment as if pondering the man's offer then pulled out his gun and fired. The Burmese colonel dropped to the ground, bullet to the head.

Rebekka was shocked. "What are you doing? We needed him."

"Not anymore. I am tired of waiting. We move now." Mustafa's tone was such that he wound not tolerate disagreement.

The former Stasi agent motioned for a couple of soldiers to remove the corpse. "Your actions jeopardize what we have her."

He grabbed her by the jaw to force her to look at him. "I do not care, woman. Now do as I say." He shoved her and for a moment Rebekka's hand rest on her weapon. The mission, however, was more important than her pride. The East German raised her head high and left the cavern fully aware that Mustafa's arrogance, for all its bluster, needed funds and logistics. He needed her.

Gillian considered killing Mustafa at that point. The terrorist was saved by the arrival of six of his men. They spoke in whispered Arabic and sounded like an argument. She couldn't hear them clearly enough but some of the men didn't like the unholy alliance they were in with the Infidels.

Again, it raised the question of who was supporting Mustafa. Her head turned to where Rebekka had disappeared. With some regret, she left the terrorist and his cronies in search of the German spy-turned-mercenary.

At the moment, she moved freely dressed as a soldier and came across Muang Hsan's body being unceremoniously dumped into a crevice in one of the abandoned tunnels. Backtracking she heard Rebekka's voice barking orders. Gillian stayed well back but one of the soldiers, who seemed to come out of nowhere, pushed her shoulder. "You're not paid to stand around. Get down there and start loading the trucks." She obediently complied as expected; taking this opportunity to see what was going on.

There were several dozen men where she went, all helping to load four big trucks. The crates were marked WORLD RELIEF PROGRAM with a stylized logo. Rebekka was there overseeing it. Another in a white lab coat watched nervously and kept telling the soldiers to be extremely careful.

She picked up one of the crates and followed behind others out to the trucks. The crate didn't feel significantly heavy but then she didn't figure weapons, in the traditional sense.

The sky was beginning to darken. If they planned on heading out, they had to do it soon before they were hit was a deluge. That meant heading for the river. Some of the locals looked up too and could see what was going to befall them. There was grumbling. Being in the jungle was nothing like it was portrayed in a Hollywood movie.

Gillian adjusted her hat, keeping her blonde locks hidden as she continued loading the crates until they were ordered into the trucks. Some were uneasy, she assumed it had to do with the cargo, but the top thugs assured that everyone was aboard or dead.

As the trucks headed out, 004 could see the bodies of the Burmese soldiers that had accompanied Muang Hsan. They were riddled with bullet holes.

The drive over the rough road was jarring and there was little to no conversation between the soldiers with her. She also couldn't check the crates with so many eyes about. Therefore, she waited.

A river barge was at the end of the line. The trucks drove on its deck and were tied down with chains. It had started to rain and in no time, it was a downpour. Anyone caught in it was instantly soaked through. There was a lot of complaining but the bulk was allowed in the wheelhouse. Three, including Gillian, were to remain outside to watch the trucks and make sure they remained secure.

She was bullied to the stern by the other two because it was far easier to fall overboard trying to keep yourself balanced on the slick deck in choppy waters there.

While the two other sentries laughed at their cunning, she went to where she was posted and when they had all but forgotten her, darted into the back of the last truck. As the cargo was risky, no one, not even in the rain, dared sit under the tarped back. This allowed her some much-needed privacy. She unsheathed her dagger and used it to pry open the closest crate.

Inside were countless bottles marked PENICILLIN. The clear liquid inside could easily be mistaken for the drug. She opened her canteen, taking a long drink then dumped the rest out. Gillian then filled a small portion of the 'Penicillin' into the canteen. At the first available moment, she'd give it to MI-6.

So as not to create suspicion, she hopped out of the truck to play the role of sentry.

The barge stopped well short of the cities of Mandalay and Sagaing where a rough dock was set up and a barely visible road was carved through the dense foliage. A Jeep, with a half dozen armed men, was waiting there.

The trucks rolled off the barge, following the Jeep. The road was beginning to worsen as the rain turn the ground to mud. However, it was not long before they arrived in a clearing where an AN26 was sitting on a gravel runway with its aft cargo door open.

Once the trucks came to a stop, there were shouted commands to load the plane quickly. Gillian was drafted into carrying the crates again. Once that was done, the soldiers buckled themselves in.

There was turbulence until the plane climbed above the clouds. The fundlementalists under Mustafa were the serious lot, all ruthlessly determined to do whatever the bidding required. They were there for the cause. The other men were mercenaries; hired killers determined to fill their Swiss bank accounts. The mercenaries, with a splatter of British, French, German and Africaans' accents were more vocal.

Once the plane was at its given attitude, Mustafa and his men went to the back of the plane, among the cargo, to pray to Allah.


	5. Bond, James Bond

_**Peshawar, Pakistan**_

The plane landed in an airfield near this border town of 2.5 million. Twenty years ago, it was a hotbed of the Afghan _Mujihedeen's _struggle against the Red Army. Today, it still heard the war drums beating but this time, the war refugees were Taliban as a result of losing power in the 2001 US invasion.

There was still sympathy for conservative ideology and thus, wanted men found sanctuary.

Mustafa obviously did as he stepped off the plane and was greeted by a minion. None of those waiting were on wanted posters as far as Gillian knew and there was a lot of activity as some of the crates were off loaded and put in a waiting truck with WORLD RELIEF PROGRAM etched in white on the doors.

Rebekka exited and stood beside Gillian, giving the spy a once over. "You will come with me." 004 walked in step behind the other woman, getting into a Mercedes sedan. As the car wove its way through the narrow roads, often honking its horn to part the numerous pedestrians, the German would glance at Gillian. There was no sign of recognition but it was becoming uncomfortable.

They were heading to a sympathizer's house where they would stay, discuss business, get some rest and continue on their way. Mustafa felt confident enough in his safety that he did not disguise himself. Being stalked by CIA assassins or a Predator from above did not worry him. Odd behavior after Abu Faraj al-Libbi was captured not long ago.

Gillian was halted by Rebekka. "A woman…One of Hasbroek's I suppose. You are to see me later." With that 004 was dismissed. She had to get the sample to MI-6.

"Are you still receiving?" She said into her transmitter.

"_You've been traveling." _Came Felix's voice.

"I have a sample of whatever they've been transporting." Gillian reported, keeping an eye out for anyone.

"_If you can leave the compound, there's a green Land Rover near the market area, not far from where you are. Do you know it?"_

"I've seen it on the way here." She ended transmission and headed for the servant's gate out back. Soon she was near the market. Her combat fatigues seemed to be a common sight so no one thought any differently as she strolled by. The green Rover slightly out of the way. With its windows tinted, she couldn't see the driver, not even a hint of a shape. When she was next to the driver's door, the window went down a peek.

"Get in."

Her eyes squinted in annoyance. 'Bond." She hissed. Looking around first and seeing no one paying attention to her, she jumped into the passenger side. 'Far cry from the Aston Martin."

Bond tapped a command from buttons inside his armrest and the dashboard flipped over to reveal a very high tech command center. "Your Service photo doesn't do you justice." He smiled.

"Save it, Bond. I know your reputation." She huffed. "You also are a bit of a legend in the field, by the stories; you think you were doing this sort of thing since Kennedy was in office." She took out the canteen. "Here's the sample."

He took it and poured the contents on an analyzer. As the computer broke it down on the molecular level, 007 turned to her. "Your Fred's replacement?"

"You knew Fred Warder well?"

"We've crossed paths. The last time was Gibraltar."

"The Koskov mission?" She inquired, having read the file brief.

He grew serious. "Yes. Fred was a good field man; deserved a better fate. Since you got his number now, I expect you not to sully it." Bond glanced at the computer, thoughts drifting to Alec, a friend who betrayed him, the Service and England.

"Like you, I plan to live forever. Now what are you doing here? M doesn't think I can pull this off without the infamous 007?"

"Mustafa Al-Sabai is a dangerous man, 004." He had to smile. Fred never looked this good. "M believes it's advantageous to have more players on the field. What have you learned?"

"They aren't a talkative bunch. Rebekka Engert is the best lead to whoever is financing this. She's been looking at me strangely but I don't think she's made me. Asked to see me later."

Bond grinned. "How far are you willing to go for Queen and Country? How can I say this delicately…Rebekka Engert can roll around with either Dick or Jane."

"Christ! Are you saying she likes me…?"

"Could be worse. Consider her an asset." Bond stopped as the analyzer finished and the chemical make up of the liquid appeared on the screen. "They've manipulated Ebola. How much do you think they've got?"

"Four truck loads. We're staying here overnight at Ghulam Khan's but I don't know where they plan to go after that. If it's a bio weapon, then we need to get a tactical team ready-."

"Not yet. We don't know who all the players are and if this is the only shipment." He tapped into his secure net server. "Ghulam Khan is a tribal leader in this region. Controls the Frontiers Corps, a local militia, here too. Many have Taliban sympathies. During the '79 -'89 Afghan War, he supported the _Mujahideen_."

"The Taliban was also a faction of the _Mujahideen _and bin Laden was with them too. We could net Al-Sabai." She insisted.

"True, but what if he leads us to his other partners or bin Laden himself. We snatch him, the others could run scared. We need to know what's going on."

"Fine. So what are you going to be doing?"

Bond didn't say anything. "Stay with them. Do you have a legend?"

She looked out the window as Bond let out a sigh. "You need something…" He tapped on the touch pad.

Gillian put her hand through her hair. "Engert thought I was one of Hasbroek's."

Miss Moneypenny appeared on the Plasma screen. _"Hello James."_ Her smile disappeared and she became more professional once she realized there was another agent. _"Gillian."_

"Gillian needs a legend as a mercenary, a connection with Hasbroek, nothing to outlandish, just enough to be realistic. I'm also sending you data from a specimen 004 has acquired. Seems it's the latest bioweapon floating around."

"_Will do James. Gillian, will have you in the Darfur region of the Sudan. It's a real mess and would be difficult for them to accredit you. It'll all be completed within a few minutes. Both of you take care."_

"With you as my guardian angel, _ma chéri_, how could I possibly lose." After the communications ended, he noticed Gillian's disgust.

"You know, some of new blood in our Section look up to you, a living legend, a superhero of our age who took down 20 notorious bad guys and saved the world, not counting the dozens of others who met their demise by your hand. Bravo. I, for one, am not going to live in yours or Fred's shadow, Commander Bond."

"I hope you don't." Bond said. "Living in the shadows could make you deathly pale. Now go on before you're missed."

Gillian didn't want to admit that having Bond around was advantageous. The man was simply very lucky. She nodded and slipped out of the Rover. Once her feet touched the road, he was off.


End file.
